


crimson and bare as i stand (yours completely)

by LadyAlice101



Series: Tumblr prompts [6]
Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Dark, F/M, Kidnapping, Mentions of Rape, Torture, Triggers, and also is a little crazy, but spoiler it hasn't actually happened, jessica is rittenhouse, wyatt is tortured by rittenhouse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 01:07:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11498586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAlice101/pseuds/LadyAlice101
Summary: He’d been taught through the SERE program what to do if he were ever kidnapped. What he could and couldn’t say, what to do if he were waterboarded or the like, and it had even included intense survival training where they pretended to kidnap you but actually tortured you for days.When he went to sleep, though, he’d been on the floor of a warehouse in Oakland, Lucy and Rufus only three meters from him.When he wakes up, there’s a bag over his head, cuffs cutting into his wrists and ankles and there’s the bitter taste of chemical on his tongue so he knows he’s been drugged.**prompt: Rittenhouse kidnaps Wyatt and uses Lucy as a way to torture him i.e. Convince him they killed her in order to break him and when Lucy, Rufus and co manage to rescue him he doesn't believe it's her at first but they convince him and he just pulls her into a hug whispering your not dead then kisses her and they're both crying happy tears. Later on he talks to Lucy about it and she's like but why would they use me and Wyatt's like because I love you and you dying would kill me





	crimson and bare as i stand (yours completely)

He’d been taught through the SERE program what to do if he were ever kidnapped. What he could and couldn’t say, what to do if he were waterboarded or the like, and it had even included intense survival training where they _pretended_ to kidnap you but _actually_ tortured you for days.

When he went to sleep, though, he’d been on the floor of a warehouse in Oakland, Lucy and Rufus only three meters from him.

When he wakes up, there’s a bag over his head, cuffs cutting into his wrists and ankles and there’s the bitter taste of chemical on his tongue so he knows he’s been drugged.

He stays still, letting his mind clear, pretending he’s still unconscious. It takes a couple minutes, but eventually he can think through the fog. He idly wonders how they got in to the warehouse, how they knew where he was –

He jolts forward, plans of pretending to stay asleep forgotten, his wrists and ankles digging into the cuffs.

“Lucy!” he mumbles out, “Rufus?”

They had been right beside him, and if _he’d_ been taken unawares, kidnapped from his fucking bed, then where were _they?_

There’s no response, but he hears the shuffling of feet and then the bag is ripped from his head and he’s blinking at the sudden light. It’s a classic interrogation room, nothing he hasn’t seen before. Table, mirror, bright lights. There are more people in the room than he would usually expect, which is a little overwhelming, honestly.

There a person on either side of him, tall, large, dressed comfortably, presumably so they can beat him up. There’s someone in the far corner of the room, a machine gun slung around his shoulders, and a young woman standing directly in front of him, which is surprising because Rittenhouse had seemed to be pretty misogynistic until this point.

And sitting to her side, just to Wyatt’s left, is Benjamin Cahill.

No one speaks for several moments.

Finally, Cahill answers the question that had been bouncing in Wyatt’s head. “They’re with us.” He inclines his head slightly backwards. “In another room.”

It takes conscious effort to not show how much that affects him, but still his eyes close and he strains against his restraints.

They stare each other off until finally Cahill says, “Alright. Put him in cell one.”

Wyatt scoffs. “What, no questions?”

Cahill tilts his head, then stands up, buttons his suit up. “I already know what you’ll say. Name, Wyatt Logan. Rank, Master Sergeant. Service number, one two dash seven three five dash nine seven seven, I believe. And date of birth, first of the third, eighty-two. I know a bit more about you than you can tell me, Master Sergeant, maybe even more than you know. I’ll see you soon.”

They leave the room, save for the two who had been beside him, who unlock his cuffs from the ground and table so he can walk. He takes the opportunity to kick one of them in face when he’s kneeling, and elbows the other in the next move. The fight is short and ends with the butt of a gun to Wyatt’s head and him slumping over the table, everything going black.

* * *

He’s there for weeks. It’s not until day twenty-three that they even start asking real questions, like how Flynn knew so much, what they knew of Rittenhouse’s current plan, where Lucy falls in the so called ‘rebellion’.

He doesn’t ever see Lucy or Rufus but he can hear their screams. It’s the one thing that makes him break, the one thing he’d never been taught to handle during SERE or any of his other experiences with this sort of thing. It’s the thing that makes him considering spilling every secret he knows, the thing that makes him bring his knees to his chest and rock in the middle of the night, quietly breaking down when no one can see how badly he’s being affected.

What he’d give to hear Rufus crack a joke, to see Lucy smile.

He meets her mother on day twenty-seven, the woman Lucy had lost, but gained, only to lose again in a way that had seemed worse than death.

It’s not until day thirty-two that he understands the betrayal she must have felt, because he experiences it himself, when Jessica walks in.

He doesn’t see her at first, his back against the far wall of his dirty cell, head bowed and his arms curled around his knees. He hears the footsteps but doesn’t look up until a hand touches his arm. He see’s blonde hair, green eyes and scurries backwards away from her, muttering, “No, no, no, no,” the whole time.

She follows his movements slowly, a reassuring smile on her face.

“Wyatt,” she whispers. “Sweetheart.”

“No,” he mumbles, “you’re not real. You – you’re dead.”

“No,” she replies gently, “no, I’m here. I’m real, I’m alive.”

He stops, can’t believe it. She takes the opportunity to press her hand against his cheek and it’s the first comforting human contact he’s had in a month so he brings his own hand up to cover hers.

“Jess?”

She smiles brightly, and it’s the same as he remembers. _She’s_ the same as he remembers. A little older, a little more tired, but the _same._

“Hey.”

He can’t believe he’s hearing her voice after all this time. He spent so long grieving, months thinking he could bring her back, and now she’s just - . . . _here._

“How are you alive?” he stumbles out.

She caresses his face gently, the same way she used to when he was sick.

“They’re not treating you very well,” she tuts, shaking her head. “They promised they’d be kind to you.”

“They’re not even kind to their own daughters,” Wyatt mutters. He can’t look away from her, his eyes looking at every inch of her face, memorizing her again.

Her thumb slides gently over his cheekbone. “Are you alright?” she asks.

That answer depends entirely upon what’s happening with Lucy and Rufus, so he asks her where they are.

Sadness crosses her face. “Oh, Wyatt . . . Lucy’s dead.”

His brain shutters, then stops. He can’t quite comprehend what she just said, what her mouth is now saying. All sound turns off and all he can see in his mind is Lucy laughing brightly.

“She - . . . what?” he asks numbly.

Jessica nods. “About two weeks ago.”

Wyatt backs away from her again, tears pooling in his eyes and dripping down his face. “They . . . they killed her?”

Jessica stands up, looks down at him coldly. “You know, I used to wonder how you’d reacted when they told you I was dead. I wasn’t allowed to see how you were going once it was official. It was like _you_ were dead. Obviously you didn’t feel that badly, considering you went and fell in love with another woman.”

He stares up at her dumbly. “You were gone for _seven_ years, Jess –“

“So you admit you love her?” Jessica snarls. “I didn’t believe them when they told me, but –“

She kicks his shoulder and he falls back. She glares down at him, then straddles his waist. He’s so bewildered by this turn of events that he wonders again if he actually is making all this up in his head.

“Guess what they did to your pretty little love, Wyatt?” she coos. “They plucked her teeth from her gums, one by one. Pulled her fingernails from their beds, one by one. Beat her black and blue, broke her bones, ripped her clothes from her body and took turns fucking her, and by the end she didn’t even have the strength to lift a single finger against anyone.”

The door behind them opens and then she’s dragged off him. He can do nothing but stare at the ceiling, his mind and body numb.

Benjamin Cahill sighs from the doorway. “She promised she’d behave.”

Wyatt can’t even open his mouth to speak, let alone come up with anything to say.

“If we’d known she was going to tell you all that –“

“She’s dead?” Wyatt croaks. “Lucy’s dead?”

Silence. Then, “Yes.”

A sob wracks his body before he can stop it, and he’s just so tired and now it feels like his heart is being ripped from his chest, like he’s suffocating.

“I’m going to kill you,” Wyatt promises lowly from where he lays. “I’m going to _fucking_ kill you.”

“Here.” Cahill chucks a small vial to Wyatt, and it lands on his chest. He doesn’t move to get it. “So you can get a bit of sleep.”

Wyatt reaches for it immediately.

* * *

 

When he wakes up, it’s to pitch black, an alarm blaring and someone shouting his name. He can’t even muster the strength to shout back, his grief is so consuming. But then –

Then she’s _there._ There at the door, he can hear her and when he turns his head a little he can see her.

“Open the door!” she’s shouting. “Open the fucking door right now or I will fucking shoot you!”

“Lucy?” he asks, confusion lacing his words and making his tongue heavy. “But you’re dead?”

“Oh, Wyatt,” she cries, covering her mouth with her hand to stifle a sob. The door finally clangs open and she rushes in to kneel beside him. Her hand on his face fills him with a strength he hadn’t possessed in days and he shoots up to throw his arms around her.

They’re both crying as he clutches her to his chest. “You’re alive,” he sobs. “Oh, god, you’re alive.”

He doesn’t remember how it happened, but the next second his lips are pressed against hers in a frenzy of tears and emotions.

_I love you_ , he thinks as she pulls away from his lips to hug him again. _I love you._

She helps him stand, and then Rufus is at the door too, and he breathes a huge sigh of relief and engulfs Wyatt in a hug.

Slowly, Wyatt brings his arms up around Rufus too, the relief at seeing his friends again overwhelming.

“Let’s get you home,” Lucy says.

* * *

It’s not until two weeks later that she asks what he meant when he said _you’re not dead._

He spills the whole gruesome story to her. She’d known Jessica was still alive, had known he’d suffered intense psychological torture. He tells her that he heard her and Rufus screaming, that they tricked him into thinking she’d died.

“Wyatt,” she says slowly when he’s finished. “They didn’t just . . . let us go. They never took us.”

“What – what do you mean?” He’s dumbfounded, doesn’t really understand what she’s saying. “I heard you screaming.”

She shakes her head. “No. We just woke up the next morning and you were gone. We thought you’d come back, and by the time we realized something was wrong the trail had gone cold. It’s why it took us so long to get you back.”

He so relieved that she was fine the whole time that he surges forward to kiss her. She squeaks in surprise but kisses him back.

It’s a beautiful balance of give and take. She tastes like freedom.

He nips at her lower lip and she breathes a light moan that makes him pull her up onto his lap. Her fingers curl in the hair at the nape of his neck and he wraps an arm around her waist to press her body against his tightly.

He pulls back slightly, their foreheads still touching, their eyes closing, the sound of their breathing filling the room.

“I love you,” he says quietly. “I am so in love with you. If something had happened to you –“

She moves forward to press their cheeks together, her hand soothingly running up and down the back of his neck.

Instead of comforting him, making promises that at this point she has no idea she can keep, she simply says, “I love you, too.”


End file.
